


Dean is...

by Nina36



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 12:38:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nina36/pseuds/Nina36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is hands that catch him, always, a hazy memory of blonde hair and an old pajamas with a button missing that, for many years, he refused to get rid of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean is...

Dean is…

Dean is hands that catch him, always, a hazy memory of blonde hair and an old pajamas with a button missing that, for many years, he refused to get rid of.

Dean is hands that catch his fall, maple syrup on his pancakes and an extra for him. Dean is fairy tales whispered under the covers, during storms, in motel rooms, as dad was   
away, and characters that sounded all the same, but always made him smile…and that was what mattered the most.

Dean is Christmas mornings spent eating candy and reading comics, hands that become calloused as he starts using weapons. 

Dean is a kid who forgets how to smile, how to dream…but always remember to make him smile, doesn’t allow anyone to make him stop dreaming. 

Dean doesn’t sulk, doesn’t brood, he can’t afford it; he wears his amulet, he gets cockier and Sam is the only one who sees him being a goof, being frail.

Sam sees Dean, he’s everywhere: he fills all the spaces, all the silences with his bigger than life persona…he invades his dreams, and Sam is afraid, is confused…and starts resenting the world. 

Dean doesn’t care, he’s always there, for him, he buys him a book one year, an old copy of the Hobbit, but he also buys him condoms, even if Sam hasn’t even given his first kiss, yet.

“Always be prepared, Sammy…” He smirks. 

Dean gets injured, he sees his blood, he learns how to patch people up, because he doesn’t trust anyone else to take care of Dean. Dean never passes out, he barely makes a sound as Sam cleans his wounds, stitches him up, but he stays longer in the bathroom and Sam would always remember that time when he heard him crying through the thin walls of the shitty room they were staying in. 

Dean flirts with women, he has sex with them and it will take years for Sam to realize that the clenching in his chest he kept feeling when Dean came back, oozing post coital bliss and cheap perfumes from his pores was jealousy.

Dean plays pool and teaches him how to…

Nothing new, since Dean has taught him everything.

Dean trusts him to have his back, even when he stays home and gets stuck on research. “You’re good, Sammy…I know you don’t talk shit. You got my back”

My. Not “ours” …their dad doesn’t get into the equation…only later Sam will wonder about that.

Dean is…

Dean is beautiful and Sam falls, hard and it feels like finally having a home, one that scares him shitless and makes him feel lightheaded. He realizes he’s always looked at Dean, but he’s never really seen…and he can’t stop, it’s like having discovered a treasure, something unique…and it’s terrifying. 

Dean cocks an eyebrow when, after having saved for months, gives him a ring, a silver ring, for his birthday. “Something you wanna tell me, Sammy?” he asks after a moment, and Sam’s blood is on fire, his heart hammering in his chest, especially when, for the briefest moment, he’s sure Dean is not teasing him. 

Dean shakes his head, but puts the ring on and never takes it off.

He runs away…and Dean doesn’t follow him. 

Dean is…the ghost that lives in his dreams, he still fills every space, every silence, he’s the first name on his lips when he wakes up. He tries to let him go, he tries to move on.  
Jessica…is not Dean, he loves her…he’s faithful to her, until Dean comes back.

Dean is…

Dean is asking for his help, Dean needs him…and the walls around his heart, built for two years shatter. Dean is even more beautiful, outrageous and scarred than he used to be.

They fight, work and laugh together.

Dean…

Dean saves his life, dragging him away from the fire, strong arms pulling him away, strong heartbeat the only tether to sanity when grief overpowers him. Dean keeps vigil, when he sleeps, he’s there when he wakes up after a nightmare. Dean doesn’t say a word about his tears, but he’s there.

Dean is…close: body, heart and soul…and Sam wants more. He’s always wanted more.

Dean goes to pieces, in a cabin, he bleeds, he begs…

Dean survives, a shell of a man and Sam is scared, doesn’t want to lose him. 

Dean kisses him back, one night, after too much booze, too much adrenaline in their system, the elephant in the room bigger and bigger and his lips are soft as he had imagined, his hands steady and warm on his face…and he falls in love, again.

Dean is…the last thing he sees, before dying. He dies with his brother’s name on his lips, with the feeling of strong arms catching him before he falls…and he has a fleeting thought, “like when we were kids” before blacking out.

Dean is…desperate, he sells his soul for him and hearing he gets just one year to live punches air out from his lungs. He spends the night sharing his brother’s bed, watching him sleep, making vows, bargains and prayers no one listens.

Dean wants a last Christmas…he doesn’t ask why, doesn’t want to know, doesn’t care…he just wants his brother, he wants him to live. 

Dean’s lips taste of eggnog when they kiss, and colored lights sparkle all around them as they become lovers…and Sam is happy and heartbroken and wants nothing else but saving Dean.

Dean dies, over and over…for months. It’s his worst nightmare, relived again and again…it breaks him and makes his resolve stronger. When they get out of that nightmare he doesn’t let go Dean out of his sight for days; he doesn’t complain - and even if he did, Sam wouldn’t have cared. 

Dean sings with him, for one last time, even if they have said their good bye, without words, hours before, with their bodies, with their eyes. 

Dean dies, for real…and it’s not a nightmare or a deadly prank. He’s in hell, and Sam feels like he’s down there, in the pit with him. He loses his soul, his heart and innocence.

He counts the days, he fucks a demon - and gets fucked in return in more ways than one - he wishes, prays and curses.  
Dean…comes back. 

Dean is…his brother, back from hell, for him, an answer to a constant prayer, a miracle. Dean is his lover, holding him tight, strong heartbeat, salty skin, old spice and whiskey and home.

Dean feels betrayed…

They hit each other, lie to each other, break each other’s hearts…but he’s there, for him, crying his name, “Sammy” through that closed door.

Dean is…there, for him, with him…he chooses him over the world, he makes a promise, but he’s there, in that cemetery and his, is the last face he sees, the last word he says, before jumping.

Dean is…

Dean is his everything: father, brother, friend, conscience and heart. He’s the stone number one on which he builds his reality.

Dean is his: his love, his life, his soul.


End file.
